


Nights of Change

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: The Night Chronicles [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anyways, Bakura Ryou Needs a Hug, Dark Magic, Descent into Madness, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Like, M/M, POV Third Person, Pre-Edge of the Night, Time Skips, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, and being so chock full of magic just made it manifest badly, as in, look gist of it is that ryou was unstable anyway, that's why he's Like That
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Ryou’s life was, for want of better phrasing, going perfectly.Until it wasn’t.-The six months Bakura was missing before Marik and Yami were taken, centered on Ryou.
Relationships: Atem & Mutou Yuugi, Bakura Ryou & Marik Ishtar & Mutou Yuugi, Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura, Marik Ishtar/Yami Marik, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi
Series: The Night Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/880872
Kudos: 7





	1. Week One

**Author's Note:**

> I figured since I'm not actually writing Threat of the Night actively and probably won't be for some time, I may as well toss this out. This will be a multi-chapter affair but I'll probably be finishing it in a week-ish, provided my left wrist (which has been out of commission for the past few days due to a... complication) allows me a couple of hours of writing time per day.

_Day I_

When Ryou woke in the morning to Bakura not in bed with him, he was not particularly concerned. There were a number of reasons why that may be and he shouldn’t even be worried… So he wasn’t.

Not being able to find a note was odd, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

He would simply wait it out. Either Bakura would text or call him later, or he’d show back up unharmed within a couple of hours.

Was it strange? Absolutely. But it wasn’t the first time that Bakura hadn’t come home overnight by any means, and not the first time that he hadn’t seen fit to tell Ryou anything about it until he finally got home. And Ryou could handle that, no matter how weird it was. So he just got ready and went about his day with the others until roughly noon, when he decided he may as well text his boyfriend.

_Let me know when you’re coming home, okay? -R_

And then he put his phone back into his pocket, on vibrate as always, and continued about his day even when Malik once again insisted on dragging he and Yugi off to do something “exciting” while Marik, Yami, and Atem were busy. He wasn’t expecting a direct reply to his text, so he wasn’t surprised at all when a couple of hours passed with no reply. Bakura was probably just busy.

It was fine.

_ Night I _

It was nine PM and Bakura hadn’t texted him back or arrived home yet.

He bit down on his bottom lip and tried not to stare too hard at his phone. It was fine, sometimes Bakura was gone for a couple of days with no explanation. This was just a  _ really _ busy trip or something. He must have  _ meant _ to leave a note and forgotten. Or started to text him and then forgot to hit send!

… Still, it was worrisome, and Ryou wouldn’t pretend he wasn’t worrying.

So when Yugi inevitably asked him what was wrong and gave him that look that said he had his full attention, he spilled his guts without hesitation.

“Bakura wasn’t in bed this morning. He never came to bed last night, either. And he didn’t leave a note, but I figured he was just busy or something and would be back. It’s not totally unusual for him to be gone for a few hours without a note or text but I texted him at noon and he still hasn’t texted me back so that’s almost a whole day completely unaccounted for.” He blurted, then flushed when he noticed he’d caught Malik, Marik, and Yami’s attention as well. “... So that’s what’s wrong.” He said, trying to be slightly more casual.

Yugi, to his credit, didn’t so much as bat an eye at the actual  _ blurting _ so much as the information contained within it. But he nodded, gave him a reassuring smile and pat on the back, and said, “I’m sure he’ll turn up. He can’t stay away from you.”

Ryou smiled a little and  _ hoped. _

But by midnight there was still no word, and he was panicking alone in bed with tears in his eyes and a pillow squeezed tight in his arms. He could sleep fine without Bakura around, but two nights in a row with no warning was different than the occasional few days when Bakura would go off on a job or something with ample warning beforehand.

Ryou was independent, he could handle himself fine… As long as he was aware he needed to be doing it.

He sniffled, tried to breathe, and grabbed his phone.

Hit Bakura’s speed dial key.

“Kura?” He asked, even though he knew it had gone to voicemail. “Please call me or text me soon, okay? I’m starting to worry.” He chewed his lip for a moment, “Love you. See you when you get home.”

He hung up.

He swallowed.

And he started crying again.

_ Night II _

It had been 48 hours since the last time he’d spoken to Bakura.

He still hadn’t gotten a text.

Or a call.

Or found a note.

And he was having a full-blown panic attack.

He hadn’t gone out today, wanting to be home in case Bakura showed up. He’d checked his phone obsessively, every few seconds. He’d barely eaten. He was trembling and having trouble breathing and his skin felt like it was buzzing. His mouth was dry. He’d been crying off and on all day and it wasn’t any better now, at ten PM.

He tried to wait it out and when he could breathe and see properly again he grabbed his phone and he called Bakura again.

Voicemail.

“Kura,  _ text me.” _

_ Day III _

“He still hasn’t called?” Yugi asked, before Ryou could even open his mouth.

The shorter looked concerned, mouth pulled into a frown and brows furrowed. He was sweeping his eyes over Ryou in that way that let Ryou know he hadn’t put himself together very well today. He must still have puffy eyes from all the crying―he wouldn’t be surprised. Dark circles, too, because he hadn’t managed to sleep. His hair had to be a mess from dragging his fingers through it and pulling on it so much.

“No.” Ryou said, simply, and tried to avoid tearing back up over it.

Yugi gave him a sympathetic look, pulled him into a hug, and didn’t say anything about that. Ryou chose not to either, and did his best to look like he was fine and functioning as a regular person by the time they met up with the others for a pre-planned little hangout. And Ryou sort of managed to have fun. Malik snuck him a beer while no one else was looking and he (guiltily) drank the whole thing because at least if he was tipsy he might be in a better mood.

And it  _ burned _ going down. It was horrible. He hated the taste and he wanted to puke before he’d even finished swallowing but he kept it down. He drained the bottle while no one was looking and tossed it and, eventually, got more than just tipsy… Considering the fact that he may have had a couple of sips of alcohol before, but he’d never downed a beer in one gulp.

Marik and Malik ended up carrying him back to his apartment, because  _ of course _ they did, and he managed to keep enough of his dignity to not try and jump on either of their dicks just because he was drunk and sad.

Still, he ended up spending most of the rest of the day laying on the couch, even after he sobered up. There wasn’t anything else to do. He texted Bakura while he was drunk, because he didn’t have enough dignity to avoid  _ that, _ and once his brain stopped hurting later in the day he called him.

“Kura,” He sighed, “Please. I know I’m being annoying as hell and you’re probably just busy and all these voicemails and texts are gonna piss you off  _ so bad _ but I just… I’m scared. I don’t know where you are or when you’re coming back and I’m  _ scared. _ You usually text me back within a few hours and it’s been almost three days since I talked to you already. That’s  _ weird, _ Kura! It’s weird and you’re scaring me so just. Please. Please text me back. At least let me know what’s going on.”

He hung up and forced himself to drink the glass of water that Malik had left him all those hours earlier.

He couldn’t be _ lieve _ he’d spent his afternoon  _ day-drunk. _

He should have been with his boyfriend and his friends but  _ no. _ ‘Course not.

He wanted to cry, but he didn’t.

He laid there until the sun went down, staring through the TV screen and letting his mind spin in circles because there was no point trying to stop it, was there? All he could do was worry and lay there and worry some more when his phone remained eerily silent and still long after the moon had come up.

Sighing, Ryou did eventually heave himself off the couch to go take care of some of his bodily needs, and he choked down a quick meal while his stomach could handle it. And promptly afterwards he laid back down. Flicked the TV on and stared through it rather than actually watching anything. There was no point. He wouldn’t be able to focus anyway.

His phone remained silent the whole night.

No contact from anyone at all until after midnight, when Malik texted him to ask if he was alright and if he needed anything.

He ignored it until the sun was peeking up over the horizon and only replied to tell him he was fine, but thanks for asking.

It was his second night without sleep and he wished he was more tired than he was. He wished he could just pass out and forget the world but everything was just… Loud. His head wouldn’t calm down enough for him to fall asleep. There were too many things to think about. Too many possibilities.

Still.

He didn’t get up.

He laid there until his spiralling thoughts turned into something more like a fuzzy whirl and he was finally,  _ finally _ able to fall asleep.

_ Night IV _

He woke, to his displeasure, to Bakura still gone and all of the messages and missed calls on his phone being from Yugi and Malik.

He ignored them all and turned over on the couch, and forced himself to go back to sleep before his brain woke the rest of the way up.

_ Day V _

He was bleary-eyed, cotton-mouthed, and in a foul temper when he woke up again to the sun just beginning to peek its way through his curtains. He pulled all of the curtains closed and plugged his phone in, and after forcing down some food and water he finally sat down to read his missed texts and listen to his voicemails.

His friends were worried about him, and even though he felt like utter shit and Bakura  _ still _ wasn’t here and he was still freaking out  _ so _ bad he― well. They were worried about him. That felt sort of nice.

And he felt bad for ignoring them for so long when he was freaking out so badly about Bakura doing the same thing to him.

_ Sorry, crashed hard yesterday. Just woke up. -R _

Within moments, Yugi had replied,  _ thats ok, you needed the sleep. just wanted to check in -Y _

Malik probably wouldn’t see or reply to his text until closer to noon.

Whatever.

He guessed today would just be a day to sit around again. Without Bakura around there wasn’t really much he felt up to going and doing―he was  _ horrifically _ anxious in public if he didn’t have someone with him, and he wasn’t going to bother Yugi into coming with him. Not today. Not when it just stung more that he’d have to ask Yugi instead of his boyfriend.

But if Yugi stopped by he wouldn’t complain. He’d like that.

Maybe he could pretend that everything was fine and that Bakura was, you know, just off on a job and coming back soon. He had to be coming back soon.

He had to be.

There weren’t any other options.

So he sat on his couch and when there was a knock on his door at one in the afternoon he didn’t think at all before going to the door and popping it open to invite his guests in. He knew he looked like hell. He also knew that Malik, Yugi, and Marik didn’t care.

Or, well.

Marik didn’t care.

Malik and Yugi just wouldn’t say anything to him about it, because Malik would understand to an extent and Yugi just wouldn’t want to bring it up.

He hung out with them in his living room until Joey eventually showed up too, and by nightfall the whole friend group was there except for Bakura and he  _ wished _ it would just feel the way it was supposed to. He wished it felt good to have them all around.

But really, it just kind of stung after a while.

Everyone but Bakura was here.

… They were here for him, to support him while Bakura was gone, but… God.

_ God _ it felt bad.

It was like a fucking celestial slap in the face.

Like, “Ha ha, took your boyfriend and now everything’s going to feel  **_wrong_ ** ”.

But he ignored it, mostly, and tried to have fun.

After everyone had at least gotten out of earshot of his front door, he sat down on his bed and sobbed his heart out because it didn’t fucking feel right. Nothing felt right. Bakura wasn’t here and he wasn’t answering his phone. He hadn’t left a note.

He was just  _ gone  _ and everything  _ sucked. _

He called him.

Straight to voicemail. Didn’t even  _ ring. _

He left a message anyway.

He cried some more.

Tried to brush his hair and take a shower, ended up just throwing his hair in a bun to be fucked with later and curling up in bed for the night.

_ Day VI _

Everything felt awful.

He texted Bakura.

He called Bakura.

No response and straight to voicemail.

He put his face in his pillow and he  _ screamed. _

_ Day VII _

He locked himself in the bathroom and sat in the empty tub for the entire day.

If his phone went off, he didn’t hear it.

He didn’t care.


	2. Weeks Two-Four

_ Week II: Day I _

He woke up in the tub, aching and tired and ready to start crying all over again. But he didn’t. He didn’t even move, he just stared at the ceiling until he heard footsteps outside the bathroom. He shuddered and some part of him told him it wasn’t Bakura. No matter how much he wanted it to be. It couldn’t be Bakura, not at this stage.

Bakura would call first.

… Not that he’d have heard it, but if he had been so far away that Bakura hadn’t even answered his calls, then he’d have called in advance to let him know he was on his way home. He’d have gotten a call, like, two days ago.

But nothing.

_ Nothing. _

It wasn’t Bakura.

And when the knock and almost hesitant, “Ryou?” eventually came, he hated finding out he was right.

It was Malik.

He sighed, probably loud enough to be heard, and still didn’t move.

“Ryou?” Malik asked, louder this time.

And Ryou just sighed again, because he didn’t even want to exist. Let alone move and open the door. He closed his burning eyes and turned his head, but flicked his left hand toward the door. The lock audibly clicked and he just turned his head further away from the door as soon as he heard it.

The door swung quietly open.

Then quietly shut.

“... You okay?” Malik finally asked, and Ryou was pretty sure he sat down on the edge of the tub.

Ryou scoffed, but didn’t bother replying otherwise.

He felt like shit. He was scared. He was confused and he was hurting and he felt like  _ shit. _ Of course he wasn’t  _ okay. _

… But Malik knew that. He knew he did. And he knew he was asking more as an invitation for him to bitch than actually thinking he might be  _ okay _ when he found him laying in the tub with his face turned away from the door. He shouldn’t be so snippy to a guy who was just trying to help.

It was silent a moment, and Malik sighed.

“... How did you even get in?” Was the first thing Ryou managed to say.

He felt more than heard Malik flinch slightly. “... You left your window unlocked?” Said the Egyptian, “Like usual?”

Ryou hummed, because that made sense. At least he didn’t have to worry about Malik having a key to his apartment or something without his knowledge. At least it was just Malik using his usual knowledge of where the fire escape was and if the window was unlocked or not. Ryou could handle that, but… He was probably going to have to start locking that window. He’d never locked it before because Bakura was usually around, and he wasn’t scared of anyone coming through that window and trying something because no one would get very far.

A hand landed, softly, on his bicep and he sighed, peeking his eyes open to look at the closest thing to a best friend that he had. And Malik was just sitting on the edge of the tub, watching him with understanding and sad eyes.

He didn’t say anything.

He just sat there with him, with his hand on his arm.

A silent comfort.

Ryou didn’t know how to ask him to cuddle without seeming like he wanted more out of it. Because he didn’t―not right now. He wasn’t feeling a whole lot of any kind of desire except the desire to be held. His long-standing  _ very _ physical crush on Malik meant very little right now.

Would he mind if it happened?

No.

But was he  _ really _ in the mood for it? Not at all. He wasn’t going to go actively seeking anything and he would bet he wouldn’t be for a long while yet. Not until Bakura came back and he’d gotten comfortable with the world again, or… Or until he’d just eventually gotten over it. Bakura didn’t…  _ Have _ to come back.

But he was holding onto the naive hope that he would.

He missed him, and he was scared.

And Malik was there, silently sitting with him, providing contact, and Ryou never asked for anything closer. Took what was happening as enough. Moved his eyes to stare up at the ceiling and wasn’t surprised when his eyes just  _ kept _ aching and burning, but never teared back up.

“Hey,” Malik finally said, however long after that, “I know now’s a bad time for you, but do you maybe wanna go―”

“Do something exciting?” Ryou cut him off, flicking his eyes back to him.

Against his better judgement, his lips quirked up. Malik gave him a sheepish grin but didn’t rescind the offer. And you know what? Ryou usually felt a lot better when Malik dragged him off to do something exciting, and he usually had a lot more questions about what they’d be doing, but…

“Yeah.” He finally said, and slowly sat up, “Let’s go do something exciting… Right after my body wakes up.”

And Malik stifled a laugh and got up.

Ryou almost protested him leaving the room until he saw him grabbing his backpack for him along with his jacket.

… He was getting his things ready for him, and the jacket and backpack meant this was probably the  _ illegal _ sort of exciting. Ryou felt oddly warm.

“What poor gas station are we robbing this time?” He asked, when Malik returned, and Malik laughed as if he’d been caught.

“Well, there’s this  _ one…” _ He trailed, grinning, “But you’ll see when we get there. It’s just us this time so that makes for easier splittin’.”

And Ryou wasn’t surprised to see, when he could finally get up and stretch, that it was dark outside already. He probably hadn’t woken up until noon, and even if he’d been up before that it wasn’t like he’d cared.

He still really didn’t, but at least he had something else to focus on right now.

Something better.

He pulled on his jacket and gloves, tucked his messy hair under his beanie, and threw his backpack over his shoulder and then they were off.

The first time that Ryou and Malik had robbed a gas station, they’d gone with Tristan and Joey. It had been months,  _ years _ before Bakura vanished, but they’d been fairly similar circumstances. Bakura was off on a trip of some kind, and Marik was busy as always, so Malik had roped anyone he thought would help into his constant need to do something exciting.

That had included Ryou, when he’d finally gathered Joey and Tristan.

Ryou had been almost too eager to help, really.

He knew he’d been asked to come along mostly because he knew how to pick locks and that left evidence, but less evidence than tossing a rock through the window. But did he care? Not at all. He was buzzing with excitement and almost shaking by the time the four of them managed to sneak up on the place. He hadn’t had to pick a lock in  _ months. _ Not since the last time he’d accidentally locked himself out of the apartment and that was a whole different idea than the other times or this time.

Once upon a time Bakura had him picking locks all over the goddamned place… But that was when they were still trying to kill Yami and Atem. When they needed to get into somewhere or into some _ thing _ without breaking anything.

Bakura could use Shadow Magic to do it but sometimes it was easier for him to send Ryou to do it instead―probably because Ryou didn’t seem like a thief and would likely be let off the hook even if he was caught. Not to mention the fact that Ryou was liable to cry if put under any sort of pressure by an authority figure. He’d be sympathized with far too easily.

… That was their plan of attack too often, really.

But regardless, on arrival at the gas station his skin was buzzing and he’d worked his way through the lock faster than he could have if he’d been younger. It had filled him with pride, then, to be able to do it so effortlessly.

And then the four of them were inside and the first thing Ryou thought to do was hop the counter and clear the collection of Bakura’s favored cigarette brand. He dumped the handful of cigarette packs into his backpack and when he stood and glanced over his shoulder Malik was looking into one of the cameras and doing that…  _ Thing. _ That Ryou knew meant he was mind-controlling anyone who watched the video into not seeing any of this and forgetting they’d seen anyone enter.

He swiped a handful of lighters and by the time he’d  _ also _ grabbed most of the batteries Malik was popping out of the backroom and ushering him over.

“Found the safe,” The Egyptian had uttered conspiratorially, and that was all it had taken to have Ryou legging it into that room.

He cracked the safe with no issue at all and he stuffed a chunk of the money into his backpack, tossed a chunk to Malik (who winked and shoved it into his jacket pocket), and took the last two remaining piles of cash to toss to Joey and Tristan before the four of them raided the shelves for all their junk food and soda. Joey and brought two whole duffel bags to fill, so he probably made off with the most out of all of them, but Ryou was a tetris master so he still managed to fit a few weeks worth of soda and junk food (for him, at least) into his backpack before they all packed up and took off.

This… Was not like that time.

Not only were they alone, but both of them were older and wiser, and Ryou had enough magic in his  _ pinky _ to unlock doors and safes instantly.

And Ryou had long-since enchanted his backpack to be a pocket dimension.

… They didn’t end up stopping with the first gas station.

They hit every convenience store and gas station they could find that was closed at night and only divvied up their spoils when they got back to Ryou’s place.

Malik eventually made his way back to the place he shared with Marik (presumably, at least―he may have decided to seek a little more excitement before the night was through), and Ryou just sat on the floor of his living room, staring at the packs of cigarettes he’d grabbed on instinct.

He checked his phone and there was still nothing from Bakura.

He put the packs on the coffee table and locked the living room window.

And he laid down on the couch.

_ Week II: Day IV _

Things had been sort of normal yesterday, after Yugi came to get him early in the morning and dragged him off to some group function that Ryou didn’t bother saying no to. Malik and Marik were absent, as were Yami and Atem, so it was really just Ryou, Yugi, and Joey, which was… Reasonable. Back when Ryou was first starting to be friends with Yugi he’d done this often enough that it didn’t feel weird.

It didn’t feel like Bakura was supposed to be with him.

This morning, he’d woken (after literally just  _ losing consciousness _ in the kitchen the night before) with a throbbing head.

He put an icepack on it, texted his friends to tell them he wouldn’t be readily available for a couple of days because he’d hit his head and needed to rest. Yugi wished him well and clearly avoided asking what had happened and Malik just said, “k”.

And he laid down on the couch and closed his eyes and tried to figure out why he had crashed so hard the night before. He couldn’t think of anything. Sure, he hadn’t slept much the night before  _ that, _ but he wasn’t exactly known for his healthy sleep schedule and by all means his body should be used to one or two hours of sleep. And he’d never just  _ lost consciousness _ like that before.

It was unsettling.

His headache was only made worse by the resurgence of something that had been very,  _ very _ quiet in his head until very recently.

_ Not my fault the only thing that kept me quiet isn’t here, _ sneered the little voice.

It had shown up after his father’s death―either shortly before or after he’d met Bakura. He couldn’t remember for sure which. And it’d been loud and outspoken for the first several months of knowing him. Always agreeing with him and urging Ryou to violence and Ryou kind of just… Tried to block it out.

Not that it worked.

It had only really started to be quiet once Bakura had started getting to be genuinely caring toward him and had shut up almost entirely, with few exceptions, after they’d started dating.

… Now Bakura had been gone for a week, and it was back.

_ Calling me an ‘it’ isn’t going to help, you know. _

… And just as obnoxious as ever.

_ You realize you’re calling  _ **_yourself_ ** _ obnoxious? It’s not as if I’m some completely different person, love. _

_ Eat shit, _ Ryou thought back at it, spitefully,  _ and die. _

The voice just laughed and Ryou spent the whole rest of the day trying to ignore it.

_ Week III: Day II _

Ryou had bitten all his nails off days ago.

He knew, he  _ knew _ he must look like hell. Must look like he was dying. But he still hadn’t gotten a reply from Bakura and the only place in the entire apartment that he hadn’t looked for a note was in Bakura’s drawer in his bedside table. And there was nothing.

He didn’t open the drawer―he never opened that drawer. It was Bakura’s, and unless Bakura asked him to grab something out of it he’d mentally declared it off-limits to himself. Bakura kept what precious few very personal items he owned in there and it was none of Ryou’s business what any of it was.

… Secretly, he’d admit, he was afraid that if he opened it it would be empty.

That Bakura would have taken the things he found to be irreplaceable and disappeared into the night with them. He could buy new clothes, new sheets, a new phone, even, but the things in that drawer were in there for a reason. They were in there so they’d never be harmed.

He sat in the middle of his drastically rearranged living room with an aching body and an even more sorely aching heart.

He’d cleaned the place from top to bottom.  _ Everything _ except that drawer. That  _ one _ drawer.

He yanked his hair into a messy bun and pulled on a long sleeved shirt to cover the bruises that yanking and pushing and tossing all his furniture around had given him. No use in letting his friends think he was hurting himself on purpose, after all.

_ As if you couldn’t just explain, _ chuckled the voice, though not cruelly for once.

“Don’t feel like it.” Ryou responded, frowning at himself in the mirror and trying not to look at the mess he’d made. He looked about as bad as he’d expected―dark circles, unruly hair, chapped and bitten lips. Even his shirt, which was clean and had  _ just _ come off the hanger, looked like hell. It didn’t fit him quite right. Too broad in the shoulders. But it was better than nothing and it was the only long-sleeved shirt that he had right now. “... Besides. Malik doesn’t exactly stop to ask when he gets an idea in his head. You know that.”

_ Mm, _ hummed the voice, acquiescing too easily.

But Ryou would prefer the too-fast agreement over an argument anyway. He didn’t have the time to argue with it.

He snapped the lights off in his bedroom and bathroom and waded through the mess he’d yet to put away. He could do it when he got home. He’d only just finished going through the pockets of all of Bakura’s clothes, after all, when he’d gotten the text from Yugi asking if he wanted to come hang out. It would be just them and Malik.

He wondered, idly, if Yugi had caught on that hanging out with all of the others made him feel like shit because it reminded him Bakura wasn’t with him. If he’d started inviting him to smaller get-togethers without everyone present on purpose.

But regardless, he’d agreed, and he could finish his actual cleanup of the apartment later.

So he went to Yugi’s place, and the three of them sat there and had a movie marathon.

Neither commented on his bitten lips or nails, or his unbrushed and unwashed hair.

Yugi even  _ cuddled  _ him even though he hadn’t showered since last week.

… Another thing to do when he got home.

And when the time came to leave, Malik trailed after him all the way to his place, which Ryou knew was not at all in the same direction as  _ Malik’s _ place and was well out of his way. Was he watching Ryou now? Keeping an eye on him?

He wouldn’t be surprised.

Malik had a weird protective streak like that.

“Will you be coming in, as well?” Ryou asked without turning to look at him once they’d reached the front door of his apartment building.

He didn’t mean to sound annoyed, or tired, but he was a little bit of both.

“If you’re alright with it.” And Ryou  _ felt _ the shrug.

“Sure,” Ryou said, and they headed up to the apartment.

He heard Malik’s sharp intake of breath when he entered the apartment and saw the horrible disarray it was in. Ryou sat down heavily on the couch and looked at him, tired and not sure what exactly he wanted. Why he’d followed him home. There were plenty of reasons, sure, but Malik rarely had the reasons that Ryou expected him to.

Malik closed the front door behind him and stepped out of his shoes and just kind of  _ stared _ at the mess.

“... I’ve never seen your flat be anything less than spotless,” He admitted, softly, “This is…”

“Jarring, I’d imagine.” Ryou sighed, looking away from him, “... I got desperate.”

“... You turned the apartment upside down trying to find a note?” Malik gathered, after a moment of silence.

Ryou nodded and, unsurprisingly, felt tears sting at his eyes and his throat get tight. He wasn’t sure if he was just upset about the whole situation, or ashamed at himself for still holding onto hope that there was a note at all. Or ashamed of himself for assuming that Bakura had left him on purpose. Or embarrassed of himself for thinking he  _ didn’t _ leave him on purpose.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, closed his eyes, and took a breath.

_ Wonder if Malik would fight back if we took a swing at him, _ the voice mused, suddenly, after having been blessedly silent for most of the rest of the day.

_ Let’s not find out. _ Ryou thought back at it.

_ Coward. _

“And there wasn’t one, was there?” Malik sighed, and sat down on the couch next to him, “... Sorry, Ryou.”

“Not your fault.” Ryou shrugged, helplessly, “... Either he’ll come back or he won’t. Reasoning and whether or not there was a note won’t really matter unless he does.”

Malik nodded.

They sat in silence.

Ryou sighed, summoned what shadows he could grasp at with his limited shadow magic, and swirled his hand in the air next to his head before flicking his wrist as if shooing something. All of the junk sprawled across the floor of the living room jerked off the floor and flung itself back where it belonged. He heard the bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom items all do the same.

He felt drained.

“... Marik’s busy tonight, I suppose?” He finally asked, glancing at Malik.

“When isn’t Marik busy?” Malik snorted, rolling his eyes.

“... Want to go do something exciting?”

“That’s my line,” But Malik grinned anyway.

_ Week III: Night VI _

Ryou felt a bit like a dragon, he supposed, looking at the stacks of cash he and Malik had procured a few nights ago.

They’d decided to hit a bank, instead. Just grab cash.

With Shadow Magic and years of practice on their side, they’d had plenty of time to sort through everything and leave without incident. Ryou could imagine the confusion of the police involved in the investigation―fried security footage that couldn’t be recovered, other security measures meticulously sorted out from the money, no fingerprints, and the vault cleaned right out otherwise.

Honestly, it was entirely too much money for two people.

Malik would use his for the Ghouls and Marik as well as himself, of course, but Ryou… Well. They’d gone halfsies on the full sum they’d stolen and Ryou had never held so much money before in his life. He could buy a real house a few hundred times over. New furniture. All the junk food he could want.

Instead, he’d sort of been sitting here with all of it, sort of just staring.

Nothing he could use it for was important.

And, worse still, he had an itch to go out and steal  _ more. _

He didn’t need it at all. Not at  _ all. _

So, swallowing, he took a stack of the smaller bills and made his way to a nearby bakery. It was the middle of the night but he knew they were still open. He ordered enough sweets to satisfy his sweet tooth and potentially make him sick in the aftermath, smiled at the person behind the counter as he paid. Made his way home with a couple of boxes of sweets.

Ate the first box in the first hour of being home and didn’t care that it made him sick.

He’d eat the rest later.

_ Week IV: Day IV _

He caved, at eight in the morning on the fourth day of the fourth week of Bakura being gone.

He caved, and he opened Bakura’s drawer.

Instantly, his world came crashing down around him.

It was not empty, as he’d feared it would be.

It was worse.

It was still full.

His phone sat nestled on top of the rope of the Millennium Ring, which laid on top of an old pile of tattered red fabric. There were a few other things in there, too―rings, another necklace, an earring. He knew all of these were the things, sans the phone, that Bakura usually kept in his drawer.

… He was not expecting the polaroid picture of himself, though.

It was recent enough―he remembered the day it was taken. Didn’t remember it  _ being _ taken, but remembered the day. It was three-ish months ago, and they’d been out and about. The Ryou in the picture was a wildly different person than the Ryou who stared back at him from the mirror lately―he was grinning, caught mid-laugh by the picture, eyes squeezed shut and hair in his face.

It was a startlingly sobering thought that Bakura kept a  _ recent _ candid photo of him in his drawer.

He started crying, but he wasn’t sure if it was because Bakura’s  _ phone _ was in the drawer, or because of the  _ photo  _ being in the drawer.

Bakura wouldn’t have left for terribly long without his phone, not on purpose, even if he was going to be buying a new one. If he’d left his phone behind he was only planning on being gone for a couple of hours.

It was dead.

The phone, he meant.

He picked it up and tried to turn it on, and it flashed the low battery icon at him before turning back off.

He spent the rest of the day crying on the floor and didn’t move until there came a knock on the living room window.

He scrubbed his face and went to let Malik in.

Malik saw the phone still in his hand and he seemed to understand instantly. His expression was loose and sympathetic, but he didn’t say anything about it. Didn’t try to comfort him or ask for details.

He just told him to get dressed for something exciting.

Ryou didn’t bother arguing or spending more time trying to calm down.

He just got dressed and went with him to hit another bank, and didn’t question why they were doing it when they still had so much money between the two of them. He’d guess Malik had given most of his over to the Ghouls without thinking about it―funding was always important for them.

They made off with significantly less this time―or Malik did, at least. He took what he wanted and stuffed it into his bag and Ryou took… More. He didn’t need it but it felt good to have it even if he had no idea how to use it.


End file.
